


Opposite of Wolfsbane

by shutupeccles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Werewolves, dickheadry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupeccles/pseuds/shutupeccles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the hell is it that makes Stiles irresistible to the local werewolf pack? When the full moon covers the Winter Equinox and Christmas Eve, hunters and werewolves aim to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opposite of Wolfsbane

This had to be the worst Christmas Eve of Alison Argent’s life. Sitting on the roof across from the Stilinksy’s, in a puffy jacket that made her look nine years’ pregnant, between her hunter father and werewolf boyfriend, documenting the oddly hormonal effect Stiles had on the local pack. Was there eggnog to make this remotely bearable? No-o!  
   
“Why aren’t you affected” she asked Scott via silent SMS.  
   
“I’m f*g u”  
   
Nice. “So b4 that”  
   
“No ask no tell”  
   
“O_o”  
   
“-_-“  
   
‘Awkward’ was a colossal understatement.  
   
“It’s a shame there aren’t any females in this pack,” Argent lamented. Alison and Scott looked at his as though he’d exclaimed ‘yay, cross-species porn, bring it on’ which he hadn’t. “In bipedal form, Derek, Jackson and Scott are all heterosexual males. Cue the moon and…” Argent let the teenagers extrapolate. “We can’t know if Derek’s sister stalked him too because their uncle killed her before we came back to town.”  
   
“I could bite Alison—purely for scientific purposes,” Scott added hastily as she punched his arm.  
   
Derek the denim and leather clad Alpha moved stealthily across the opposite roof and dropped down to land on the window ledge of Stiles’ bedroom. Beta Jackson was dressed in similar clothing but with less menace and panache, and he walked along the footpath to stand in shadows by the front door.  
   
“Don’t let them in, don’t let them in, do not let them in,” Scott chanted under his breath, knowing his pack could hear him and his best friend could not. His blood surged with his thoughts. He could suppress the physical transformation, but there was far more to being a werewolf than that. The Equinox amplified the lunar rhythms that sang through his brain. Resistance was futile. “ **LET US IN!** ” he bellowed as he leapt to his feet.  
   
Alison reflexively shot her boyfriend with a tranquilizer and struggled to keep Scott’s sedated form from toppling off the roof. Argent watched her from the corner of his eye.  
   
“And I thought my sister was scary,” he stated plainly.  
   
Stiles opened his bedroom blind. Startled to find Derek’s crotch at eye level, he immediately closed it again and turned out his light.  
   
“Clever work, Alison, now your boyfriend can’t tell us what they’re saying,” Argent mumbled crossly.  
   
“He’d hardly be telling **us** anything if he was across the road baying to join in…” Alison stopped.  Stiles (the moron!) had opened the front door and stepped into the shadows where Jackson waited. Derek bounded swiftly to the ground and growled as Jackson stepped forward. Stile shouted at them. “Bad dogs, stop fighting over the same bone and Sit!” His next gesture must have accompanied a threat to go back inside because Alpha and Beta backed off.  
   
Alison bit back a laugh.  
   
“I hate working with women,” Argent muttered and made his way down from the roof.  
   
*~~~*  
   
This was bound to be the stupidest thing Stiles had ever done, and could bring down the internet with stupid things he’d done. Still, Scott was looking out for him. Get this full-moon equinox-y thing over with and everything would be back to normal.  
   
Derek made it clear they needed Stiles for this and no substitutes, so he may as well lord it over these arrogant turds while he had the chance.  
   
“I told you not to jack off in the lead up to this moon,” Derek reprimanded. Before Stiles stopped imitating a goldfish long enough to reply Derek added with a sneer, “I can smell it on you.”  
   
Yep, that definitely gave Stiles goosebumps. Even in his butt crack. Not a good sign. “Well, I told you not to be a dick and that hasn’t happened yet. So bite me.”  
   
Derek snapped his jaws and Jackson pushed Derek away with a snarl. Stiles told them off in a low voice.  
   
“I didn’t mean werewolf-transformation-bite me, bite me and you said this will stop the pack killing people when you phase! I am not doing this otherwise.” Stiles pointed at the ground. The vicious werewolves either side of him watched his finger avidly so he hastily put both hands in his pockets.  
   
“It won’t stop the pack attacking each other,” Derek admitted.  
   
“But we’re not people,” Jackson gloated.  
   
Stiles was painfully aware of that. He desperately wanted to become one of them since Scott was bitten. His envy threatened their friendship time to time but he didn’t want one of the local pack to change him. These guys were all mental—or Scott. Stiles was definitely not doing any of this with Scott. No biting, scratching, or…Jesus! Derek put his hand between Stiles’ legs and squeezed. It was uncomfortable, on so many levels, yet shockingly hot. Stiles’ jaw dropped with a sound like _gyuh_. Derek covered Stiles’ open mouth with his and a challenge rumbled from Jackson’s throat. Stiles let Derek’s possessive behaviour continue just to piss Jackson off. Supposedly to piss Jackson off, but most probably because being so shamelessly wanted made him shamefully horny. “Just so you know, I am in no way into this,” Stiles insisted as Derek gruffly told his Beta to unlock the car. The expansion pack being so skilfully manipulated by Derek said otherwise.  
   
“Neither am I.” Derek’s jeans proved he was also lying and they continued making out until Jackson opened the passenger door to his Porsche and pushed them in.  
   
“I’m pretty sure this is illegal,” Stiles declared as Derek pulled him onto his lap in the front seat while Jackson leapt over the car to get in and drive, “and possibly immoral. Not that I have a problem with gay sex, just, that, I’m not technically gay, and, neither are you, and seat belts…!” They wiggled and shifted as he protested and he soon knelt facing Derek so they could make out again. It made no sense. Ordinary males did not make Stiles horny. Werewolf males made his dick resemble a Space Shuttle awaiting lift-off. Derek affected him worst of all, long before he became Alpha. Something in his blood, Derek explained, called for them to bite, scratch, maul, and mate with him. They didn’t like it any more than he did, but they couldn’t resist it either. Hopefully the ritual tonight would stop that nonsense too. _It’s just blow jobs. They take turns sucking me off, spit or piss into a sacrificial fire, then we all go home and pretend this night never happened. Three lunatics holding a moon-induced cum-fest to stop free-range slaughter of human beings, that’s all this is. There’s nothing weird or erotic about it._  
   
Yet their tongues clashed while their hands clutched at shoulders, hair, hips, necks, and buttocks in counter rhythm to their pelvic thrusting. Stiles had never had such a ferocious boner in his life. He wanted Derek … he couldn’t believe what he wanted.  
   
“Can’t you just fuck me here?” he panted while Jackson waited at the set of traffic lights marking the outer edge of town.  
   
“It’s a ritual,” Derek grunted, “not an orgy.”  
   
“Really? Cos it’s feeling kind of like an orgy,” Stiles countered breathlessly.  
   
“We’re here.” Jackson’s usually smooth voice was harshened by the moon’s influence.  
   
Wow, werewolves drive like they run – inhumanly fast. Luckily Scott was driving the Argent’s SUV, or Stiles would be completely at Derek’s mercy. Not that he minded at the moment… He was dumbly embarrassed by his expectation that Derek would carry him from the car to the tiny stone building. Making him walk in jeans when he needed to be naked and getting on with it because he was about to come was surely punishment for something.  
   
“Light the fires,” Derek gruffly commanded Jackson as he locked the door. “Remember to add the herbs and resins in the order I taught you.”  
   
“Magic? Come on! Werewolves I believe in, but hoo-doo voodoo mumbo-jumbo hey-presto David Copperfield?”  
   
Derek gripped Stiles by the throat and glowered as he snarled. “How do you think the first of us was made?”  
   
“I’d rather not.” Stiles would rather concentrate on the intense heat travelling from Derek’s jeans to his entire body, the feel of Derek’s hand inside his shirt and mouth against his throat. Not that he was enjoying this, because he wasn’t, not a bit.  
   
The single room quickly grew warm as Jackson lit the fires at each compass point. Tall, leafy potted plants nestled in each corner and the centre of the packed earth floor was covered by a large, deep pile woollen rug. Apart from that, the room was empty.  
   
“Nice décor.”  
   
“Functional. Silver nitrate in the soil stops us phasing and snacking on you during the ritual. Rug stops your pathetic butt getting cold.”  
   
“Find some other pathetic butt.”  
   
“It has to be you,” Jackson said. Disdain contradicted with desire.  
   
“Because I’m descended from the first female werewolf, before she was bitten, blah, blah.”  
   
“This ritual protects your friend Scott, even though he doesn’t participate. Alpha, Omega and you, are all we need to protect the humans in our territory from our entire pack.”  
   
Fear was forging its way through the hormonal rush and Stiles tried smothering it with words. “Feeling a lot less sexy now. Think we could get Lydia to dance naked, say, on my face? That could help.”  
   
“Or I could just maul you, and the three of us go on a rampage, killing everyone we see to welcome you into the pack.”  
   
“You heard your Alpha, Jackson. Suck my cock!”  
   
Jackson looked to Derek, hesitation clear. Derek nodded and knelt behind Stiles, becoming a chair as he opened Stiles’ jeans. Stiles reached back and grabbed Derek’s neck in alarm. Jackson would be an absolute arsehole at school over this. Stiles needed to emphasise Derek’s authority over them both in this situation. For the good of the pack, to keep innocent citizens safe, to get this over with…Jackson bent his head to Stiles’ lap and put his mouth around the hard-on Derek continued to nurture. Stiles made a tiny _giyah_ sound. Derek’s mouth and hand held his throat and this time there was nothing menacing about his grip. Stiles closed his eyes and let them do what needed to be done.  
   
*~~~*  
   
“We lost them.” Argent wasn’t surprised.  
   
Alison felt guilty because Stiles was her friend, too. Wherever they took him, he appeared to go willingly. But did he know what they intended to do? Scott hadn’t told her stiles was leaving the house, or getting it off with Derek, yet he was clearly doing both. Scott was all over Alison every chance he got but the way Derek manhandled Stiles made her blush. She tucked her face into the collar of her coat as her father swung the SUV around.  
   
“We better get your boyfriend to the vet, wake him up. Jesus Alison, what did you shoot him with?”  
   
Alison couldn’t think. The way Stiles’ entire body had gone rigid and then limp as Derek kissed him made her inexplicably jealous. The sex she had with Scott was mild compared to the intensity of Stiles and Derek merely making out. Maybe they should try doing it closer to the full moon…  
   
*~~~*  
   
Something in the smoke from the fires made the air pleasantly fragrant while making the three males feel detached from the earth. They were weightless, floating through space as a single entity. Their arrhythmic heartbeats were the only authority they had to answer too.  
   
Derek and Stiles moved their tongues to the same rhythm of Jackson’s bobbing head. Shallow and reserved, then slow and deliberate, followed by rapid and desperate. Their lips broke contact so Stiles could gasp as he came. He noticed the eyes of his companions were still human eyes. They hadn’t phased, despite the guttural growling and other lupine noises they made. His conscience was relieved. The rest of him didn’t care.  
   
“Spit,” Derek commanded. Jackson turned his head and spat cum into the Southern fire. “Return the favour,” he huffed against Stiles’ ear.  
   
“What? No-one said anything about that!” His voice didn’t reach the same level of panic as his mind because his body was still reaping the rewards of inhaling fragrant smoke and receiving a Jackson blowjob.  
   
“Do it.” Derek’s words almost purred. His thumb teased Stile’s bottom lip as his mouth surrounded Stiles’ Adams apple, and sucked on it. Stiles moaned, then licked the thumb and sucked it while Derek juggled his balls and tugged Jackson’s dick to make it harder. Derek used his elbow to hold Stiles against him as he ground up against his butt.  
   
“Fuck me. Fuck me while I do it.” Stiles made his request as quietly as an outward breath, but the werewolves heard it.  
   
Derek immediately undid and pushed down his jeans without letting Stiles off his lap. His towering dick protruded through the gap between Stile’s thighs and rubbed against his balls as slickened fingers separated his cheeks and gradually opened him up. Jackson didn’t need Derek tugging him to keep his dick hard. He wanted in, too. He stood over the reclined pair, feet on the floor either side of Derek’s backside, and held Stolinsky by the top of his short hair.  
   
Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder and neck, gasping and writhing because he’d never known anything could feel so good as Derek finger fucking him. How fantastic would it be to have that dick inside him? He opened his mouth and shifted his head side to side to let Jackson in, a bit at a time, when what he really wanted was Derek fucking him onto his hands and knees until he was blue.  
   
“Oh, god,” Derek said. “Yeah. Fuck that face, Jackson. Shut him up. Hurry up and come so I can put my dick in him and make him howl like the rest of us.”  
   
Stiles groaned around the mouthful of dick and Jackson came. Stiles immediately began to choke. Jackson pulled out, cupped his hand beneath Stiles’ chin to catch the dribble and cum, and then flung it into the Southern fire. He wiped his hand on his jeans as he pulled them up and zipped himself away without taking his eyes off the others as Derek pushed Stolinsky forward and fucked him into the rug.  
   
Flames crackled, males grunted, bodies slapped, the same sounds repeated in irregular patterns until Derek grasped Stilinsky’s hips to deliver a thrust so sharp and deep that Stilinsky cried out. It wasn’t in pain. Derek’s natural scowl didn’t soften but it had morphed into a frown of satisfied triumph.  
   
“Rest up, Stilinsky. We’ve got three more fires to feed.”  
   
*~~~*  
   
Scott was fanatical once they’d countered the sedative in his system so they put him in one of the veterinarian’s cages. He alternately pulled, chewed, and rutted against the bars, swearing menacingly at the Argents for separating him from his pack, and threatening to kill them if they didn’t take him to Stiles immediately.  
   
“Why?” Argent demanded.  
   
“He has to let us in. Bite, maul, scratch, fuck, him, bring him back, change him, Alpha. Let us, let us…!” Scott mindlessly thrust against the bars confining him again. “They are. Mine. Mine first. GET ME OUT!”  
   
“Derek’s the Alpha. What makes the pack think biting Stiles will cure you all?” Agent asked.  
   
“Not us. Him! He is Alpha. Change him. He will lead us. Make us strong and in control. Tonight! Tonight the call is strongest. Can’t you hear his blood? We will all take him. Our pack will be strongest.”  
   
Alison shot him with another tranquilizer.  
   
Argent turned to his daughter. “You know, this isn’t the way to deal with relationship issues.”  
   
Alison shrugged.  
   
*~~~*  
   
Jackson slept in front of the Eastern fire, curled up on his tummy like a two-year old.  
   
The charade of the ritual was over. Stiles truly was descended from the first female werewolf, but apart from that Derek made everything up to get his pack and Stiles to go through with this. Stiles commended his creativity and dedication to getting laid as they sat cross-legged in the centre of the floor playing Go-Fish with the nudie cards Stiles found in Jackson’s pocket.  
   
“If this doesn’t stop us all going wild for you at every full moon then I’m getting neutered.”  
   
“Consider that bonding moment ruined. Do you have any brunettes with gold star pasties?”  
   
“Go fish.”  
   
*~~~*  
The moon’s power was waning. Scott remained his every other day self when he came to for the third time. Then he suddenly sat forward with warmly gentle brown eyes wide in alarm. “Where are they?” He could no longer sense Derek and Jackson, only some other far more ominous presence.  
   
Some intruder had culled his pack.  
   
*~~~*  
   
Derek and Stiles lay on their left side, Derek lazily fucking Stiles from behind. Their shoulders twisted back so their tongues could tangle briefly. They were incredibly weary and sore but couldn’t resist doing it again without Jackson’s interference. Stiles let his head sag onto Derek’s left arm, stretched out the rug in front of them.  
   
“This time, when you come, bite me, hard,” he said in time with Derek’s indolent hip movements. “Then take me outside before the sun comes up, phase, and bite me properly.”  
   
Stiles arched back as Derek’s teeth caught the curve of his neck. They pushed forward with their hips as they came for the final time then lay still until Derek’s dick became limp enough to slide free without assistance.  
   
“Do you know what you are?” Derek growled softly against the mark his teeth made.  
   
“No, only what I want to be.”  
   
Derek helped Stiles to his feet and lad him outside into the snow. “Climb the tree if you change your mind.”  
   
“All I had to do to get you to be nice to me was let you fuck me all night long? You could have told me months ago.”  
   
“This isn’t a nice Hollywood movie moment you moron. Your life will be over.”  
   
“Did you warn Jackson like this?”  
   
Derek scowled.  
   
“I’m too weak for your pack? Fine, I’ll find another one.” Stiles turned and took three steps toward the stone hut. The Alpha growled behind him. Stiles turned back to face the transformed werewolf. “Bite me, Derek. I dare you.”  
   
Derek did.  
   
*~~~*  
   
There was blood in the snow but not enough to justify Scott’s reaction as he ran hollering into what could barely be classed as a building. Alison lined up to shoot him again, but Argent stopped her and removed all her weapons.  
   
“Let him go. He can find them and lead us to this new threat. You and I are in for a serious talk when we get home, young lady.”  
   
Scott’s confused and terrified head poked back through the door and stared at them. “They’re not dead. Derek and Jackson are both here, sleeping something heavy off by the whiff of that smoke, but all I found of Stiles is his clothes.”  
   
“You think they ate him?” Alison asked fearfully.  
   
Scott’s face crinkled with amusement a split second before staring behind them in alarm. A menacing growl located the new threat. Scott’s shocked expression immediately preceded the tap on Alison’s shoulder and she jumped.  
   
“Looking for me?” Stiles asked with a grin.  
   
“You’re naked.” Alison stated after slapping his shoulder for being a dick.  
   
“Yep,” Stiles said boldly as he walked past her into the hut.  
   
“Your naked rear could be the second most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen,” Alison said as they followed him in. “The most horrifying being your naked front.”  
   
“Are those hickies?” Scott asked Stiles. He wasn’t looking at his friend’s neck.  
   
Stiles pulled a long shirt over his head and looked about for some pants while he answered. “Yes. And no, I don’t want to talk about it, aside from mentioning they’re no longer werewolves.”  
   
“And…” Scott found it difficult to add ‘you are’ with Stiles’ hand clamped over his mouth.  
   
“So,” Argent said slowly as his hunter eyes took in every visible detail and other senses provided other, less savoury clues. “And pardon me from saying this Stolinsky, banging you is a cure for lycanthropy?”  
   
Stiles looked mortified for a moment then rather pleased. “It could probably cure a lot of things…” he boasted. Scott was the only member of the audience entertained by that response, so Stiles spoke more seriously. “It appears that way, Mr Argent. Now, I would really like to go home, have Christmas with me father and forget any of this horrifying experience occurred. Scott,” he turned to his best friend with a none-too subtle grimace. “Care to keep me safe from your irate former pack by walking me home?”  
   
“No offense Stiles, but I’d rather stay a werewolf than shtoop you.” Scott clapped Stiles on the back. “Thanks for the offer, though.”  
   
“We don’t have to have sex, you plebeian.” Only Scott could hear the words on Stiles’ breath. “I’m like, Queen of the Werewolves, or something. One scratch from me and you need never fear your girlfriend again.”  
   
“I’m not afraid of Alison!” Scott protested. The three other conscious people knew that to be a lie. Scott could see it on their faces. “I’d be happy to walk you home, best buddy, best pal,” he said through clenched teeth and a phony smile.  
   
*~~~*  
   
“You do realise you said Queen of the werewolves?” Scott asked with a snort. The Argents remained at the hut, interviewing Derek and Jackson, and making sure they were alright. Stiles didn’t stop walking as he turned and gave Scott a disparaging stare. “Sorry. Why’d you lie?”  
   
“I didn’t. Derek bit me…” Glowering eyes dared Scott to make a joke of that. Scott chose not to. “I immediately phased because the full moon was still at its peak, bit them back, so now the only werewolves in town are me and you.”  
   
“Jackson’s going to be pissed.”  
   
“I know.” Stiles grinned, like his familiar goofy self, and Scott almost drowned in relief. “Derek was born a werewolf. If he can’t cope…”  
   
“You’ll change him back?” Scott asked carefully. Stiles nodded. “Is he like, your, mate, or…” That question earned another glower from Stiles. “No? Glad we’re clear on that. It would have been embarrassing if I’d asked Derek if you guys wanted to come on a double date.” Scott grinned hopefully and Stiles laughed.  
   
Once they were a safe distance from anyone, Stiles asked seriously. “Are you ready to be normal again Scott? I won’t hurt you, just a single scratch. That’s all it takes, I promise.”  
   
Scott flicked the back of one hand against his thigh as he thought about the implications of that. “What if I’m not sure yet?”  
   
“Then I’ll wait until you are.”  
   
“Then I choose wait, for now.”  
   
Stiles nodded to show he accepted Scott’s answer, although he didn’t approve. “It would have made a nice double Christmas present for you and Alison.” He shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to make the effort and actually buy you something, now.” He smiled at Scott and noticed they felt similar relief as Scott smiled back.  
   
They raced back to the Stilinsky place and this time, Stiles won.  



End file.
